


for once, she cried happy tears

by holographicbubbles



Series: happy tears (or time travel and birthgays) [1]
Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Gen, Time Travel, i know it sounds weird but it's really just time travel, young!Elsa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:01:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24512758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holographicbubbles/pseuds/holographicbubbles
Summary: After getting a visit during one of her lowest-lows from someone who Elsa is quite sure is her saving grace, Elsa begins to have hope for the future, even long after she forgets the visit.
Relationships: Elsa & Young Elsa (Disney), implied Elsa/Honeymaren (Disney)
Series: happy tears (or time travel and birthgays) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1771342
Comments: 4
Kudos: 53





	for once, she cried happy tears

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a little scared of myself.
> 
> I had writers block for like a week and now I've been in hyper-writing mode for a realllllyyyyy long time and this is only one of the like... four other one shots I've written. Including one other in this universe that I'm finishing up and will be out soon.

“I’m scared,” she gasped, pacing the small space between her door and her bedroom. Her eyes went wide at the sight of ice creeping up the doorway and she spun around, not able to face it without the panic rising like a tide in her throat again. _No, no!_ “It’s getting stronger!” she shoved her shaking, gloved hands out in front of her. She flipped them over and looked at them, gasping for breath. A breath that her lungs couldn’t take. Her panic grew as she started to hyperventilate, the frost on the walls growing, icing up the walls in spidery lines, and seeping to the floor. If the gloves didn’t work- she could hurt her parents! She could hurt anyone who came near her with a simple wave of her hand, she could hurt- She was dangerous, just like the trolls had said those four years earlier. _There’s beauty in it, but also a great danger-_ _Where’s the beauty?_ Tears streamed down her face. Her father cleared his throat as her mother leaned into his side. 

“Getting upset only makes it worse,” he said calmly and leaned forwards to her slightly. “Calm down,” he took a step towards her, reaching out his hands to hers. She gasped, pulling them away, clutching them next to her cheek.

“NO!” she screamed, her pupils blown in fear. “Don’t touch me,” she pleaded quietly, taking a half step away. “Please,” she whispered. “I don’t want to hurt you.” 

Her mother stepped closer to her father, placing a hand on his shoulder. Her parents looked at her, their faces falling as they gazed at her terror. “Dear, you have to let us help you,” she said quietly, coming to her knee in front of her daughter. Her daughter took a step away again, looking at her in fear and confusion.

“I’ll just hurt you,” she said. A sob left her throat as she crumpled to the floor. 

“No, you won't-”

“Yes, I will,” the words left her throat in a provoked, panicked growl. Her father stepped in between her and her mother.

“Iduna,” he said carefully, shooting a warning glance at his wife. “Maybe we should leave her alone.”

“I don’t want to-”

“It’s for the best,” her father sighed, leading his wife away with a sad, but firm hand on her shoulder. Their daughter watched them go, fear mounting in her chest and anxiety sitting on it like a weight. She couldn’t breathe. She sat in a terrified, crumpled heap on her bedroom floor, her eyes wide. Through her gloves and lace-topped sock-covered feet ice seeped, covering the room in a frosty layer. She whimpered as snow began to fall from the ceiling. Sir Jorgenbjorgen, her stuffed penguin and only source of comfort, was clutched in her hands, frozen. 

_Don't touch me, please - I don’t want to hurt you._ Her tears froze to her cheeks as they fell, escaping out of her throat in gasping sobs. She buried her face in her knees. She was cursed. Broken. A monster. She was an abomination. A _monster._ She’d hurt Anna, and could again. She could hurt her parents, her people… She could _hurt_ people, people she loved, and people she cared about. She could hurt strangers. She could- and that made her a monster. It was a good thing her parents forbade her from seeing Anna, she could only imagine what could happen if she did. Clutching Sir Jorgenbjorgen to her chest and curling up on the floor next to her bed, she cried. Elsa cried. 

_Only monsters hurt people. I’m a monster._

She remembered the horrific taste of the words on her tongue, the way the room frosted over, snowflakes suspended in the air in her fear. _“Ma-Mama, Papa!”_

Nausea rose in her throat in the form of sour bile, spilling into the back of her mouth with a dizzying feeling taking over her head. Her eyes burned from the back, like something was clawing at them, her head felt light like it was filled with wool, but it sat heavily on her shoulders. She looked down at her hands, at the frozen penguin that sat in them and scowled. Her stomach hurt, she hated that. She hated the ice that crawled up to the ceiling, she hated the snow that fell from where it touched. She hated her gloves, she hated that she needed them. She hated that she still went crying back to a stuffed toy when she was twelve already. She choked on a sob as she unwillingly and regretfully tossed him across the room. She hated that she liked the sound he made as he fell to the floor. She hated that she liked the pain that she got from banging her head on the ground. She hated the feeling of deserving it. She hated that she did. She hated herself and she hated her life. She hated that she was cursed. She hated that she was a monster. She hated that there was no choice. She hated that there was no way out of the pain. 

Her head buzzed, her ears ringing. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, hoping to block out the insistent, painful noise. She wanted to scream. Her body felt like it was being pounded at by something from the inside. 

Her eyes opened slightly at a cool, crystalline sound. She sniffed, wiping her nose as a ghostly woman appeared. Donned in a white dress, pale, nearly translucent skin, and platinum blonde hair so light it was nearly colorless, the only splash of color on the woman’s body was her eyes, turquoise - just like Elsa’s. The woman, after she materialized, looked around the frozen room in awe. Elsa gasped, curling away from the spectral young woman. 

“Wow,” the ghost mused, her pale hand reaching up to touch one of the frozen walls, brushing across a frosted-over painting that hung there. “It worked!” she turned to face Elsa, her features softening as her gaze settled on the young girl. “Hey, don’t cry,” she said, rushing towards her. “You’re okay.”

“Get away from me!” Elsa screamed. “I don’t want to hurt you,” she whimpered. Her lower lip trembled. Her teeth gnashed down on the inside it to try to get it to stop, only stopping when the metallic tang of blood washed over her tongue before disappearing as she swallowed. 

“You’re not going to hurt me,” the ghost smiled, getting down on a knee next to Elsa. “The cold never bothered me anyway,” she sang, turning a playful grin at the fretful child. She frowned upon seeing the fear on the girl’s face had only grown. “I suppose you didn’t get that,” she smiled and reached out a hand to Elsa’s head, presumably to stroke her hair, in a braid down her back, like it always was. Elsa jumped away.

“I said get away,” she sobbed. “I’m just going to hurt you, just like I hurt everyone else.”

The woman-ghost, Elsa wasn’t so sure she was a ghost anymore, moved closer, gently pulling Elsa into a hug. “You’re not going to hurt me,” she said again. “You’re not going to hurt me, Elsa,” her grip tightened around the smaller girl, and Elsa felt the woman’s chest heave against her, like she was crying too. 

“Who are you?” Elsa said, trying to snarl, but it came out more of a frightened growl. She defensively pushed away the older woman. “How do you know who I am?”

The woman smiled, a happy-sadness glowing in her eyes as she moved her palms away from Elsa, turning them over to face the ceiling.

“Your favorite animal was- is, sorry- a penguin, right?”

Elsa nodded, confusion growing on her face. _How does she know?_

“Maybe this will answer that question?” an eyebrow on the woman’s face lifted up slightly. 

“I don’t-” 

The woman held a cool finger to Elsa’s lips. “Shh. Just watch,” she said, pulling her hand away, and swirling it around her other fist in a distantly remembered, but familiar movement. Her fist began to open slightly, and a small, white penguin fell into her hand. Elsa gasped. “Here,” the woman smiled, handing the penguin, made of ice, to her. Elsa felt the cold thing in her hands. 

“You’re like me?” she whispered in awe, brushing a finger across the ice’s intricate surface. 

The woman gave her a warm, soft smile as she sat down next to Elsa with her legs crossed. “I am you,” she said quietly. “In fourteen years.”

 _I don’t- what?- how- that can’t-_ despite her tumbling thoughts, all she could manage to get out was a pinched, “how?”

“You’ll find out. That’s not important now. I just wanted to come tell you- me- that life gets better. That one you’ll be happy again.”

“But- I’m a monster!” Elsa said indignantly. “I could hurt so many people! I hurt _Anna!”_

“Oh,” older-Elsa cooed, cusping Elsa’s face between her hands. “You’re not a monster. Everyone makes mistakes.”

“Only monster’s mistakes hurt people,” Elsa whimpered. Older-Elsa pulled her into another hug. 

“Only monsters hurt people willingly,” she said. “Have you- I? Have we ever hurt someone on purpose?” 

“Yes… no,” Elsa’s shoulders sagged, but her face lit up at the realization. “No. I haven't,” she whispered. “I haven't!” she laughed. 

“We’re not a monster. We’re human,” older-Elsa sat up, sheepishly rubbing the back of her neck. “This is weird, referring to myself as ‘we.’ Spirits, I’m talking to myself!” she laughed. 

Elsa bit her lip excitedly. “But- I- we, we hurt Anna!” she frowned again. 

“And she’s fine. You hurt her again too- wait, maybe I shouldn’t have said that? There weren’t exactly guidelines for this. Time traveling.”

“I hurt her again!?”

“And you save her. And she loves you, and forgives you for everything too. She knows, also. Everyone does.”

“Everyone?” Elsa’s eyes widened. “How?” she asked breathlessly. 

“Um. I don’t think I can say that. But they do love us still. Know that, okay?”

“I-” Elsa sighed. “Okay. How long are you here for?”

Older-Elsa closed her eyes, her appearance flickering. “Ahtohallan only has the magic for about another hour.”

“Ahtohallan? Like in the story? It’s real?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“It’s real?” Elsa’s eyes widened in wonder. 

“I probably shouldn’t have mentioned that either. Gosh, I’m doing terribly at this!”

“So, how are we doing in fourteen years? Not the big things, just the small things. How’s Arendelle?”

Older-Elsa gave Elsa a wide grin. “Anna’s Queen!” she squealed. “And doing a much better job than we ever- I shouldn’t say that. The people liked us, we just were never destined to be queen, despite our heritage of the crown.”

“Wow,” Elsa mused, picturing what she remembered of her little sister wearing a crown. 

“And, oh! She’s getting married! To an ice-deliverer named Kristoff. And he’s our best friend, along with Ryder. They love reindeer. Kris and I call ourselves the Ice Bros. With Ry, we’re the… we actually haven’t come up with a friendship name yet. We should.”

“Ice bros…” Elsa echoed.

“Yeah! And I’m assuming it won’t be long until there are little Annas running around the castle.”

“Wait-” Elsa blinked. “But if you- we’re _not_ queen, then what are we?”

“I-I don’t know if I can say that.” 

Elsa pouted. “Can you be vague?”

“A lot happens in the next fourteen years,” older-Elsa sighed. “But we get through it, okay? It seems at some points that nothing will ever be the same, but we pull through. It seems like some days are only dark and no light, but we see the light again. Some days, we can barely breathe, but then, we taste the fresh air again. A lot happens, but we’re okay,” she whispered. “But, the Enchanted Forest? From Mom and Dad’s stories? It’s real. And we go there, and we meet the Northuldra. We make some wrong things right. Ryder’s Northuldra,” she smiled wistfully. “I live with them now,” she said, closing her eyes. 

“Wow. How’s it like?”

“Amazing,” older-Elsa smiled at her again. “The seasons, all of them, are so beautiful. Especially fall and spring. And we get to see Ryder everyday,” she breathed. “We get to do stupid things like we’re kids, Elsa. We get the childhood Mom and Dad took away from us. Not that they meant to- they were doing what they thought was right. We fish and hunt, climb trees!”

“Wow!” Elsa grinned. “That sounds awesome! How long have we been there?”

“Two years, now. Oh, by the way, it’s winter here, right now, but for me- in the future? Future-us now, it’s just about fall. And it’s been ten months since-” she broke off. 

“Since what?”

“I don’t know if I should tell you that.”

“Oh. Is it big?”

Older-Elsa pursed her lips. “Yes. But not exactly in the big things? Does that make sense? I guess I could tell you...”

“Then tell me!” Elsa tugged on her older self’s sleeve, and she smiled down at her.

“Well, it’s been ten months since we got together with the love of our life.”

“Oh,” Elsa’s eye twitched. “That’s it?” she scoffed. 

“What? I think that’s pretty big.”

“But love is just so-” she shook her head. _“Bleh!”_

“I remember that we felt that way. But it’s amazing, trust me. You’ll love it when it happens.”

Elsa sighed, rolling her eyes. “That was always Anna’s thing. But whatever, who is he? Is he really that amazing?”

Older-Elsa bit the inside of her lip, a blush creeping across her cheeks as her smile grew. “Yeah,” she sighed wistfully. “She is.” 

_“She?”_ Elsa blushed, barely able to contain her happiness.

Older-Elsa frowned. “I guess I’d never thought of it. Not by your age. Ugh, this is so confusing! When I leave, am I going to remember this from _both_ perspectives? Or are you some sort of alternate universe-me? Because that would be weird. Okay, that was beside the point. Yeah, we’ve got a girlfriend. She’s amazing, she’s so beautiful, and smart! She’s _so_ smart. And insightful, and her lips- gosh, she kisses so well-”

“Okay, gross. I don’t-”

Older-Elsa gave her a cheeky smile. “She does!” her face went bright pink. “But, Elsa, we love her so much.”

“So, wait, you’re telling me that in the future, we’re not queen? Or married? To a _guy?”_ Elsa made a face.

“Not queen,” older-Elsa confirmed. “Just very gay,” she laughed. 

“Thats-”

“Awesome?” Elsa raised a brow.

“Yeah! Totally!” 

“Yeah,” older-Elsa agreed, laughing. “A good combination. Older, wiser, _and_ gayer!” Elsa snorted with laughter. 

“What’s her name?”

“I’m not going to tell you that. I don’t think I should. You’ll just _know.”_

Elsa sighed, thinking of what the mystery girl’s name could be, what she could look like...

“What about Anna? Does she take it well? You guys see each other right?” Her face went slack with worry at the thought of not seeing her sister for, well, forever. 

“Yeah. She does,” Elsa grinned. “She was mad with me for not telling her earlier, but afterwards, she was amazing. Oh! You’re not going to believe it!”

“What?” 

“Well, when we realized that homosexuality- I sound like a scientist! I mean, we kind of are? No, mathematician. Anyway, when we found out that it wasn’t legal in Arendelle, for reasons being I’m a stupid person- Anna immediately made it so. Oh, Elsa. It was amazing. She did so on my birthday,” older-Elsa sniffed. “I didn’t know she was planning to. When everyone gathered in the courtyard for a party she’d planned, she told everyone that she had an announcement. All of Arendelle was there. Everyone heard. I was- I was so dumbstruck that I stood there in shock while a slice of ice-cream cake slipped off of my plate and to the floor. And then,” she sniffed, wiping at her eyes. “I fell to the floor sobbing,” she laughed. “So hard that I couldn’t breathe. And everything was just iced over, and it started to snow, but nobody cared, despite the fact that it was, ironically, the only warm day in a long time. And Anna and Kristoff held me tight, and we sobbed. We were so happy. And all around, there were just couples kissing, couples who had previously been in hiding- it was beautiful,” older-Elsa wiped away tears, clutching a hand to her heart. “It was beautiful,” she repeated. “Ma-...mmyyyy girlfriend was there. We may or may not have had our first kiss in front of the entire kingdom.”

“We did?” Elsa’s eyes went wide.

“Oh yeah. Definitely.” 

“I can’t picture ever doing that.”

“Well, it was the high of the moment,” older-Elsa shrugged. “It only lasted like five seconds before I started sobbing again, though. And then I sat there hugging Mar- my girlfriend as we both sobbed, and everyone was clapping- and kissing, and crying and laughing and cheering- it was beautiful.”

“I’m not much of a happy-crier,” Elsa frowned.

“Well, we become one. There's so much beauty in the world, so many small things to be happy about. So many big happy things to cry about.”

“That’s a… beautiful and poetic way of putting it.”

“Well, as Olaf's said- ‘maturity is making me poetic!’”

“Wait- Olaf?”

“Yeah!”

“Like- the snowman?”

“Mhm!” older-Elsa nodded vigorously. 

“How did he… _say_ that?”

“We make him. With our love for Anna. He lives because of that.”

“We do?”

“Yeah. He’s kind of like the funny sidekick in a fairytale. If only our life was a fairytale.”

“Wow,” Elsa mused. “I don’t think I’ll be capable of that,” she looked at her hands. Elsa put a hand on her shoulder. 

“We do a lot of things when we’re just testing out our powers again. Give me your hand,” she said, holding out her palm. _Her ungloved palm,_ Elsa realized, and then she understood the urge to cry happy tears. She wasn’t going to be stuck in her gloved torture forever! She handed over her gloved hand, a notion that now made her sick. “May I?” older-Elsa asked carefully, her other hand hovering over Elsa’s glove. She nodded fearfully, gasping when the silk slid off her hand for the first time in forever. Her hand was smaller, only slightly, than her older self’s. “Okay,” older-Elsa said. “Hold your hand up like this,” she moved Elsa’s hand so it was splayed, in a natural, relaxed way in front of her. “And now think about things you love. Anna,” Elsa smiled at the thought of the redhead. “Chocolate,” older-Elsa laughed. “Ma-'' she broke off. Okay, their future girlfriend’s name definitely started with an M. Elsa smiled slightly at how bad her older self seemed to be at keeping that secret. Older-Elsa cleared her throat, swiftly starting back up. “Books, geometry, hmm, peach tea, horseback riding- Freyja!” she laughed. Elsa’s favorite horse. She’d named her that after the Norse goddess, the goddess of love, beauty, war, and death. A good, very good combination. Especially the war and death part. 

“Why am I doing this?” Elsa asked. 

“You’ll see. Now, picture that love as an energy, deep inside you. Picture it travelling to your fingertips. Picture whatever you want to create, now. Imagine that love, that energy, forming into that shape, just above your hands. Now pour all that love you have inside you into it. Yes! Look!” 

Elsa gasped. A small giraffe sat in her palm. It looked at her, tilting its head on its precisely scaled-down neck. “It’s…real!” she gasped. 

“An giraffe,” older-Elsa sniffed. “Anna’s favorite. Okay, now’s your c-ch-chance to ask it what s-s-sound it makes.”

“Elsa?” Elsa asked, looking up at her older self, who was flickering. 

“My time is running out. Ahtohallan is running out of energy,” she frowned. “I have about two minutes left h-he-here.” 

Elsa gently placed the small giraffe aside, getting up and hugging her older self. “Don’t go,” she sniffed. “I want to know more!”

“I have to,” older-Elsa cried. “But hey, I did my j-j-job! I convin-vin-ced you that you’re not a monster. Look at that giraffe, and remember that that’s y-y-your love in it. You didn’t create it out of h-h-hate, you made it out of love. If you were really a m-monster,” her voice was growing fainter. “You wouldn’t have all that l-love. We’re not a monster. We’re special.” 

Elsa hugged her tighter as she felt her presence slipping, crying into the fading white fabric of her dress. “We’re special,” she repeated. “Not a monster,” she cried. 

“Not a monster,” older-Elsa’s voice was so quiet now. “Elsa, stay strong. For us, okay? For Anna. Stay strong.”

Elsa nodded, and with that, her older self was gone, nothing more than an odd memory. 

Elsa sank to the floor again. For once, she cried happy tears. For once, she cried because she was _happy_ , not sad or scared. _Huh. The concept of us- me?_ She still wasn't quite sure what to think. _Whatever. The concept of becoming a happy-crier isn’t too far off now._ She smiled through her tears, holding out her palm to the icy giraffe. It crawled into her hand. She looked at it, in awe, marvelling over the fact that she had created it. She got Sir Jorgenbjorgen from where she’d tossed him across the room, and held the two things to her chest. 

Love.

Love had brought older-Elsa to see her.

Love had created the giraffe.

Love would help her save Anna, somehow.

Her _love._

She loved.

She wasn’t a monster. 

She let out a happy sob, curling up into a happy, crying mess on the floor, hugging her memories and her love tight. Slowly, the giraffe melted away, fading into the sky. She cried, hugging Sir Jorgenbjorgen tight as she watched the snowflakes flutter away. After a while, she couldn’t remember why she was crying, just that she was happy and that something had happened, something good. She grasped onto the last string of memory she had of the event, memory of how she had felt- happy. Free, loved. She let out a few last tears, holding the happiness she had felt close to her heart. Even in the dark times, she remembered that hope. Even when everything went wrong, she remembered that love. She held it close to her heart, and it helped her get through the worst of the times. She would hold on to the hope that one day, maybe things would get better. 

She would never let _that_ go. 

**Author's Note:**

> I have one more one-shot in this universe coming out soon (it's gay, this is its first Pride, let's support it) and you can probably guess what it will be on.
> 
> (come on, is it even possible to let that plot slip through my fingers?)
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed and would love it if you left feedback!
> 
> Thanks for reading,  
> \- Al <3


End file.
